


Murder at Vigil's Keep

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 3 (Morena Amell / Cassandra Hawke) [6]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dragon Age whodunit. Loghain returns to Vigil's Keep two years after the Blight. When Commander Morena Amell dies under suspicious conditions it falls to him to lead the investigation. Everyone is a suspect, and as more and more secrets come to light, Loghain realizes that no one is truly innocent...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return to Vigil's Keep

 

**  
**

**Chapter 1: Return to Vigil's Keep**

The snowstorm caught up with him when he was less than a mile away from Vigil's Keep, but even so he was lucky to make it there before the visibility became too poor. A particularly strong gust of wind made his horse stumble , and Loghain cursed violently. His frozen fingers just barely kept their grip on the frosted reins. When the huge gates finally closed behind him, and he was safely within the protective walls of the old fortress, he breathed a sigh of relief. The gatekeeper was struggling to wedge them shut against the snowdrifts. No one else would be entering or leaving the Keep for at least a week, if he was any judge of the weather.

As soon as a messenger boy had been sent to inform the Warden Commander of his arrival, he set out for his quarters to get out of his freezing cold armour. After almost two years in Orlais, he welcomed his return to the cold Fereldan weather, the rougher life on the road and the rustic charm of the wayside inns. Still he was glad when, having stripped down to his breeches and washed, he returned to his sitting room to be greeted by the welcome sight of a crackling fire and the spicy aroma of a bowl of hot stew.

He had just finished wolfing down the rich, thick soup, when the door opened, letting in a cold breeze that raised gooseflesh along his naked chest.

"Loghain. You're back." The sensuous tone of her voice made him shiver for entirely different reasons.

He got up in a fluid motion that belied his years and greeted the Commander with a wary smile. "Morena. It's good to be in Ferelden again."

She looked exactly as he remembered her. Her proud, beautiful face was just the same, her smooth dark skin unlined and those sparkling dark eyes as vivacious and passionate as ever. Her slim, petite body was clad in the customary velvet mage robes that hugged her curves tightly, only now they were blue instead of blood red. No, she hadn't changed a whit since the day she had spared his life, only to make him a Warden afterwards. A death sentence of a different kind, yet he had been grateful.

And he'd had even more reason to be grateful when she had invited him into her bed only days later, when he was pacing the draughty palace corridors, tormented by nightmares that made him restless and aggressive. He had found a strange kind of peace in those brief, heated encounters, as well as a grim satisfaction derived from the knowledge that he had replaced Maric's bastard pup in every possible way. At her side when they took down the Archdemon. In her War Council when they discussed how to rout the remaining darkspawn. And in her bed. He was certain he had given her no reason to regret her decision.

"How was Orlais?" Her lips turned up in an ironic smile. "Did you kill any chevaliers with that fierce glare of yours?"

He didn't bother to answer, just growled at her and pulled her close. She didn't resist when he began to untie her belt, but there was a trace of mockery in her expression even then. It drove him wild, as she knew it would.

"You'll have a full report tomorrow." He theralded his fingers through her long black hair and pulled her head back, baring her neck to his hungry kisses. "Tonight I'm off duty."

She smiled like a cat. "Ah, my dear, a Warden is never off duty. You will answer to your Commander, even here."

Loghain knew a challenge when he heard one. And he had to admit the ensuing power struggle excited him just as much as it did her. When she finally cried out under him, her haughty features made soft by her arousal, it was a triumph just as sweet as any he'd ever known in battle.

She got up immediately afterwards and began to get dressed. He rolled on his stomach and watched her, admiring her firm, young body.

"Any news from the witch?" He tried to sound casual, but she wasn't fooled.

"Morrigan?” Her head snapped up and she paused for a moment. “Why do you want to know? Are you concerned about the welfare of your little bastard?"

He flinched at her deliberate cruelty, but he kept his voice even. "I would like to know how she and the child are faring, yes."

"Don't kid yourself, Loghain." She resumed dressing. "This is no child. It's an Old God, and there's no telling what dark plans our lovely Morrigan is hatching."

"Yet you were eager enough for me to accept her proposal." His tone was scathing. "Was that the reason you dropped Alistair without as much as a shrug, Morena? Because he wouldn't do the ritual, and you didn't want to die?"

"I didn't want either of us to die," she corrected him. "But yes, that was part of the reason. That, and he would have made a lousy king. Your daughter is far better suited to the task than he ever was. And since he refused to marry Anora..." She raised an eyebrow. "Plus, it would have been a waste to kill you. You are an able commander, Loghain, even if you are a sour-faced old bastard."

He shrugged, refusing to be baited, and she sighed. "There are rumours that Morrigan was seen near Flemeth's hut. I plan to check up on them as soon as the weather lets up. As for Alistair..." There was a strange expression on her face, one he couldn't quite make sense of, something between amusement and pensiveness. "Let's talk about him some other time."

When she left, he lay back on the bed, watching the flames die and reflecting on her words. _So reasonable. So cold_. _So calculating_. In all the time he'd been with her, she'd never made a single decision that wasn't to her own advantage. She might have saved Ferelden but she had never hesitated to sacrifice other people's happiness for her goals. And she'd never bothered to soften the blow either. No wonder she had plenty of enemies.

He wondered briefly if she'd always been like this, whether her character was the result of her upbringing in the Tower or a reaction to the horrors of the Blight Year. It would be interesting to know more about her past. And of course he was curious to hear about the events of the past two years. Rumours of sentient darkspawn, broodmothers and worse had reached him even in Val Royeaux.

But then the long day on the road took its toll and his eyes dropped shut. There would be more than enough time to talk to Morena tomorrow, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Old Scores

**Chapter 2: Old Scores  
**

Morena smiled to herself on the way back to her quarters. It had been good to see Loghain again. She found his company weirdly relaxing, maybe because she never felt the need to pretend with him. He understood her better than most, her craving for power, her occasional ruthlessness, her need to be challenged. He was one of the most exciting lovers she'd ever had, despite his age. And he was blessedly intelligent. She looked forward to discussing strategy with him tomorrow. Now, however, she was ready for a bath, a good book, and a deep dreamless sleep.

But when she opened the door, Nathaniel was already waiting for her, pacing the length of the room in an agitated manner, tearing his hair and cursing under his breath.

"Morena. You've been with Loghain, haven't you?" The accusing tone of his voice made it clear that he knew it hadn't just been a social call.

"What of it?" Her voice was cool and even. "He's an old... friend. Surely you didn't assume you had an exclusive claim on my affections just because-"

"Because you've been sleeping with me for the past fifteen months?" Nathaniel's voice dripped with sarcasm. "No, of course not. How could I possibly expect the mighty Warden Commander to take my feelings into account? I have to admit, I didn't expect you to fall into his arms the moment he turned up here." 

Morena sighed wearily. "Look, Nathaniel, it's been a long day. Do we have to discuss this now?"

"Now's as good as ever," he said, looking sullen and defiant. "Are you in love with him?"

"With Loghain?" Morena laughed out loud. "No, certainly not. I enjoy his company in bed, that's all."

She walked over to her desk and briefly scanned the pile of papers there. A sealed message from Anora, delivered in person by Ser Cauthrien in the afternoon. Mistress Woolsey's accounts for the past month, precise and exact as usual. Reports from Sigrun and Oghren, who had just returned from another excursion to the Deep Roads. A reminder from Seneschal Garevel that she had to name a new Guard Captain soon. More whining letters from the petty nobles around the Keep who wanted help against the darkspawn. _As if I didn't have enough on my plate..._ A perfumed note in Anders' sweeping, irregular hand. _Tomorrow night, on top of the Old Tower?_ She smiled briefly and threw it into the fire, wondering if Nathaniel had seen it. But surely he was too honourable to spy on her correspondence?

He was still glaring at her, his dark, handsome features fixed in an unattractive scowl. Really, men were more trouble than they were worth.

"Come on, Nate." She walked over to him and stood on tiptoes to reach his cheek, brushing her full lips over the dark stubble. "Don't get so worked up over this."

Angrily, he pushed her back. "Stop toying with me, Morena. I want to know what Loghain's place is going to be, now that he's back. And I want to know where I stand."

Her eyes narrowed. "What is it you're interested in, Nathaniel? Your place in my heart or your place in the Warden hierarchy? The latter question is easy to answer. Loghain is the senior Warden after me. As long as he's here, you'll follow his orders. Or mine."

He bristled visibly at this, and she couldn't resist teasing him further. "Oh, Nate! Still chafing at being under my authority? Still wishing you could take your place as the Arl of Amaranthine and get back what's rightfully yours?"

"Careful, _Commander_.” His face darkened with rage in an effort to hold back. "It's not in your best interest to remind me of this."

"Oh, but it is." A high, sweet laugh came from her lips. "It's about time to remind you again, Nathaniel _Howe_. Your father is dead, and even you have to admit the world's a better place without him. You're a Warden now. And you're lucky I didn't have you executed, just like Loghain."

"Do you make a habit of this, then?" Nathaniel's lips were pulled up in a feral smile. "Pardoning your enemies so that you can bed them? Are you so afraid of sleeping in a cold bed that you have to make sure we're all yours to command?"

For a moment, fury flashed in her dark eyes, but she controlled herself immediately and smiled sweetly at him. "Well parried, my dear Nate. But you and I..." She slid out of her robe and walked towards him, completely naked, her hips swinging seductively. "We both know I've never had to resort to _commanding_ you to bed me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, biting down hard and licking the blood from his lip with her small pink tongue. His violent reaction made it more than clear that he didn't stand a chance against her charms. He grabbed her, kissing her hard, shaking with the urgent need to possess her, to make her his again. Morena laughed softly, triumphantly, as he dragged her over to the bed. No, he couldn't resist her. None of them could. Men were such easy targets.

Nathaniel stayed in her bed that night, claiming her again and again, unwilling to let her go. He woke when the first rays of weak winter sunlight shone through the big, stained-glass window in the eastern wall of her bedchamber. Morena was already up. She was sitting naked at her desk and writing a letter. When she looked up at him and saw that he was awake, she smiled, reaching out for the large water goblet placed near the inkwell. She took a long sip and closed her eyes in meditation.

"You know, Nate..." Her voice sounded drowsy. "I never told you about..." The goblet fell to the stone floor with a loud thunk, released by her suddenly limp fingers. Her eyes rolled up in their sockets and her body convulsed briefly. When Nathaniel caught her in his arms seconds later, she was already dead.


	3. Prime Suspects

**Chapter 3: Prime Suspects**

Loghain had always been an early riser and the morning after his arrival at Vigil's Keep was no exception. He was up and dressed at dawn and made his way down to the large dining room, noting with approval that an ample breakfast was already set out on the sideboard. Servants were bustling around the room, bringing in regular refills for the covered dishes that smelled of salty bacon, succulent eggs and other delicacies.

Most of the Wardens were already up as well, no doubt driven here by the combination of restless nights and ravenous hunger that seemed to be part of the Warden package. Loghain eyed them curiously as he filled his plate. He didn't recognize the tall elven mage or the tiny casteless dwarven woman who were chatting at one corner of the table. The other dwarf was a familiar face from the Blight, though... Oghren, that was it. A drunkard, but an able fighter, as Loghain recalled. And apparently a Warden now, judging from his blue and silver uniform.

And of course no one failed to recognize the lithe figure of Zevran Arainai, former Antivan Crow and Blight companion. Loghain was surprised to see him at the Keep, but nodded briefly in his direction before giving a heartier welcome to Ser Cauthrien who arrived shortly afterwards.

A rather pompous young man with blond, curly hair walked up to greet him, introducing himself as Seneschal Garevel. Ah yes, the previous seneschal, Varel, had died in an attack on the Keep, hadn't he? And the old lady in the corner had to be Mistress Woolsey. Loghain vaguely remembered being introduced to her two years ago.

He sat down with Cauthrien, eager for news about his daughter, the Queen, when suddenly there was a commotion in the hall. The door opened with a loud bang, and a man with long dark hair, clad only in a thin pair of leather breeches, stormed in, followed closely by a tall young man in mage robes.

"I'm telling you, Anders, she's dead! There's nothing you can do any more."

Loghain gasped at the sight of the wild-eyed face of the first arrival. He reminded him of... Rendon? But Rendon was dead, and so was his son, Thomas. So this had to be....

"Nathaniel," he called out firmly. "Nathaniel Howe! What is the meaning of this?"

Nathaniel's head spun around, and he faced Loghain, his expression so full of grief and panic the older man instinctively stepped back. "She's dead. Commander Amell is dead... She's been poisoned."

Immediately all hell broke loose. Loghain sank back on his chair in the midst of all the furious chatter, unable to process the news for a moment. Morena, dead? But just last night they... _Enough,_ he told himself firmly.

"You, mage!" he addressed the robed man who had arrived with the young Howe. "Are you a healer?"

The man nodded. "Yes. I... I'm Anders. But Nate seems to be sure-"

"Up to her room, quickly." Loghain cut him off. "Maybe..." He broke off, looking around to find the other Wardens staring at him while Anders darted up in the direction of Morena's quarters.

"And who made you the boss all of a sudden?" the tiny dwarven woman piped up. She didn't seem unduly shaken by the news of Morena's death. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Shut up, Sigrun." Oghren laughed mirthlessly. "This is Loghain MacTir, and he's the senior Warden here now. Well, exc-" He caught himself just in time. "Anyway, if Morena’s really dead, we’ll have to answer to him."

"Curious, though, that she should die right after your arrival..." The elven mage looked at him from under her long blond lashes. "Weren't you her enemy for most of the Blight?"

"Velanna!" Nathaniel's stern voice rose easily over the low murmur that had risen up at her words. "You dare accuse Loghain of such a deed? If you knew him at all, you'd realize that his honour is above reproach."

"He's just another _shem_ to me. But of course _you_ would defend him, Nathaniel." The mage raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't your father a special friend of his? Maybe you were in this together..."

"Enough!" Mistress Woolsey jumped to her feet, bristling with righteous indignation. "You call yourself Wardens? If this were Weisshaupt..." A collective sigh from the assembled Wardens answered her as she launched into what was without doubt a familiar diatribe. Loghain caught Nathaniel's eye and nodded briefly at the young man. _I’ll talk to him later._

Just then Anders returned, and Loghain raised a hand to quell the noise.

"She's dead." Anders' voice sounded shaky, and his hands clenched in the folds of his robe. "As far as I can tell, Nate is right. She was poisoned. Something strong and quick... Crow poison maybe."

All eyes turned to Zevran, who had remained silent so far, but the assassin just shrugged. "Hardly an unusual choice," he remarked in his rich, rolling accent. "And not that hard to come by either."

Loghain nodded. "I'm going up to Morena's room. Anders, you should be there, and you too, Nathaniel, since you found her." He raised his voice. "Rest assured, all of you, we will find her murderer. I will clear my name of this infamy." He shot a dark look in Velanna's direction. She glared back defiantly before whispering something in Sigrun's ear. The dwarf nodded emphatically.

"Of course I will investigate the matter as well." Garevel had gotten over his initial shock and was now determined not to be outdone. "It's my duty as the Keep's seneschal to keep an eye on this."

Loghain shrugged. "Of course. Let's head upstairs." He pretended not to notice the murmurs rising behind his back when he walked out the door. _Let them talk._ _One of them is a murderer, after all._

 


	4. Undying Love

**Chapter 4 - Undying Love** ****

Loghain paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. The room seemed peaceful and pleasant in the early morning sun - until the eye fell on Morena's body, lying sprawled next to the old oaken desk. The papers on the table were undisturbed. At the time of her death, she'd been writing a letter. She had set the quill neatly aside when she had reached for the goblet. _The goblet._

He carefully made his way over to the desk and picked it up. There was still a little liquid left in it. He swirled it around and sniffed it suspiciously, but it seemed to be just plain water. "Anders?" 

The mage had moved to his side and was now gently closing Morena's bloodshot eyes. She didn't look disfigured, just pale and very quiet. The taut muscles in her neck and the lines of tension around the full lips were the only indication of her futile struggle to survive.

"It must have been very quick." There was a hitch in Anders' voice. "I don't think she suffered much."

Loghain took a deep breath. "Can you find out which poison was used from the dregs in the goblet?"

Anders got up and straightened his robes, then he nodded. "Piece of cake. I need to take it up to my room, though, run a few tests."

"Do so, then." Anders briefly opened his mouth, as if to protest, but then he left without another word. Loghain stepped around Morena's prone figure to take a closer look at the papers on the desk: reports, letters, brief notes. At first glance there seemed to be nothing of importance there.

He was about to pick up the letter on top, when Ser Garevel stepped in. "I think I should take care of these papers, Ser, if you don't mind. I will catalogue them and keep them safe."

Loghain clenched his teeth in frustration, but he nodded grimly. "Of course." _There'll be time enough to deal with this later._

Garevel gathered the sheets of parchment and set off for his study, leaving Loghain alone with Nathaniel.

The latter had taken a blanket from the bed and covered Morena's body. Loghain was grateful for the gesture. Her nakedness had been an all too vivid reminder that she had moved straight into Nathaniel's arms from his side. _Insatiable little bitch._ For a moment he almost smiled at the memory of her voracious appetites, but then the reality of her death hit him again and he sat down on the edge of the desk with a deep sigh.

"Well, Howe, so you don't believe I killed her?" He searched the young man's features for clues, but Nathaniel seemed to have inherited his father's wiliness, if hopefully not his darker traits. His close-lipped face gave nothing away. Could he have done it? Rendon certainly would have had no qualms about killing a woman he'd bedded. And he'd been well versed in poison lore. But this wasn't Rendon, he reminded himself.

Nathaniel shook his head. "You wouldn't resort to poison. Had she been strangled in a fit of rage, I might suspect you, but as it is... I'm not sure the others will be as easily convinced, though." He gave a small crooked smile. "Look, Loghain, I know you cared about Morena too. I'll admit I was jealous, but now... I want to see this murderer brought to justice. If you agree, I'll help you clear your name. Especially seeing as I am just as much a suspect as you are."

"Everyone is a suspect at the moment." Loghain's expression was grave. "But I'd be glad to have your support in this. We will have to work out who had a reason to kill her."

"Or we could start by finding out who put the poison in the goblet." Nathaniel pointed out. "Who came into her room yesterday?"

Loghain sighed, covering his eyes with his hands. "Well you, obviously. The servants. Ser Cauthrien when she delivered Anora's message. And who knows who else."

Nathaniel nodded. "Morena wasn't in the habit of locking her door, so everyone just walked in whenever they wanted to talk to her or leave her a message."

"And we have no way of knowing how long that goblet was there before she drank from it." Loghain shrugged. "I'm afraid it could have been anyone."

"Damn," Nathaniel cursed in frustration. "Well, at least we should... remove her body. It's making me sick to see her like this." When Loghain nodded, he went on. "Maybe we can take her to the chapel. It's icy cold there at this time of the year, so..."

But Nathaniel hadn't even reached the door when there was a loud, tortured sob from the corridor. The door flew open, and a man in tattered leathers stumbled in.

"Morena! Oh Maker, is it true what they told me? Is she really dead?" The man's slurred voice betrayed the fact that he was drunk despite the early hour, and his unkempt appearance made him look like a street thug at first glance.

But then Loghain took a good look at the face hidden under the shaggy mane of blond hair, and he reeled back in shock. "Alistair?"

He knew he sounded incredulous. What on Thedas had happened to Maric's easy-going, handsome young bastard? Loghain watched the young man drape himself across Morena's body with a desperate howl, and bit his lip when it hit him. _She happened to him._ Morena. Her betrayal, her utter disregard for his love had broken the young man completely. He was sobbing wildly now, running his hands all over her body, kissing her quiet face as if he could bring her back to life.

Nathaniel took a look at Loghain's shocked face. "She didn't tell you he was at the Keep?" When the other man shook his head, he went on, his face grim. "He arrived here three days ago, too drunk to speak clearly, begging Morena to listen to him. She refused to see him before he'd sobered up. I believe he made an effort and they talked for a while yesterday."

"Alistair!" Nathaniel shook the man's shoulders. "What did she say to you? Did you quarrel? Maker, did you kill her?"

Alistair's bleary eyes suddenly wore an expression of panic. "I... I don't remember. Just that she was cold, cold as ice. She laughed at me when I told her I couldn't forget her. And then I went down and had a few pints. I was... so angry... Perhaps I did kill her. Yes." He looked up, his eyes now gleaming feverishly. "I must have. I was drinking and then... Please," he grabbed Nathaniel by the tunic. "Please, lock me up. I..." 

Loghain caught Nathaniel's eye and shook his head imperceptibly. No, this wasn't a murderer. A pathetic drunkard, maybe, but not a killer.

There was a discreet cough from the doorway. Mistress Woolsey stepped in, taking Alistair's hand and pulling him up. "We will lock you up safely, lad, never fear." Her voice sounded almost motherly. "I'll put him in his old room. It has a stout door and a good lock." She cut off Loghain's thanks with a quick motion of her hand. "Let me take care of him. He... reminds me of someone."

She led Alistair out of the room. He didn't resist, though he cried when he let go of Morena's limp body. The look in his eyes was so desolate that Nathaniel shivered. _He's never stopped loving her. Maker help him._

Loghain walked over to the window. More storm clouds. Much as he had predicted, the Vigil was snowed in and would likely remain so for another week. "As soon as the weather lets up a bit, we'll have to send a messenger to Weisshaupt. I may be Acting Commander now, but they will want to name Morena's successor as soon as possible. I wonder...." He sighed. "Let's get out of here, Howe. Come along to the library and fill me in on what happened while I was away. I will need to know more about the other Wardens come dinnertime."


	5. Someone Dear to Me

**Chapter 5 - Someone Dear to Me**

By the time they settled down in the library in two comfortable armchairs, Loghain was ready to admit to himself that the events of the morning had shaken him considerably. He needed a brandy. He poured himself a glass, and another one for Nathaniel, who accepted it with a grateful nod. They sat in silence for a while, each lost in his own thoughts.

It was hard to accept that Morena was dead, Loghain mused. She had been so full of life the night before. Wilful and contrary as always, to be sure, but there had been something about her that entranced him, even if he knew her for what she was. She’d had them all under her spell. Him. Nathaniel. Alistair.

He flinched at the memory of the scene they had just witnessed. He had no love for the bastard, a product of Maric's fling with some common serving wench, and he would have opposed Alistair's ascension to the throne with his last breath. Still, he saw his old friend's features in the young face, now so devastated by drink and despair. No, it gave him no pleasure to see Alistair suffer.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, he turned to Nathaniel, who was obviously struggling with the death of his lover. _Better keep him busy_. "I'll need a full report on what happened during the past two years, Howe. With special regard to where all the new Wardens came from and how they came to join."

Nathaniel nodded and launched into the story. It took them most of the day, interrupted only by a brief snack at lunchtime. Loghain's respect for the young man grew with every hour. Nathaniel's summary of the events was clear and succinct, and it was obvious that Morena had relied on him both as an accomplished archer in battle and as a trusted advisor.

At one point his voice almost failed at the mention of her name, and he had to pause for a moment to collect himself. Loghain put a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder.

"You were at her side most of the time, weren't you?" He kept his voice neutral. Nathaniel wouldn't want pity. Not from him, at least. Not in the wake of Morena's last act of faithlessness.

Nathaniel nodded. "She took me along on most of the assignments. Me and Anders." The ghost of a smile danced on his lips. "She was an amazing battlemage, but a lousy healer. If it hadn't been for Anders, none of us would have survived those battles."

 _And now she's dead. Murdered here, in the safety of the Keep._ Loghain's face darkened. _I will find the one who did it. And soon._

* * *

When dinner time came, Loghain felt ready to confront the Wardens. They had all assembled around the ancient oaken table, greeting his entrance with a sullen silence indicating they had been talking about him. _Well, let them talk._ He took Morena's vacant seat at the head of the table, ignoring the dark looks it earned him, and began filling his plate. The food at the Keep was excellent and plentiful, good, solid Fereldan fare that was a blessing after two years of Orlesian _haute cuisine_.

"So, who killed Morena?" Velanna's tone was aggressive. "I'm sure you already know which of us you suspect. The way you were talking this morning, I'd expect you to have all the answers by now."

He finished chewing, then wiped his mouth before he fixed her with his cool blue eyes. "I have my suspicions, certainly. But it would be premature to talk about them. And, while I do intend to find the murderer, there are other things to consider. The Darkspawn threat hasn't stopped just because of Morena's death. Nathaniel has been kind enough to give me a report of the events of the past two years, but if any of you have valuable insights to offer, I'd gladly hear them."

Oghren, who had already had a fair amount of dwarven ale, snorted contemptuously. "What's there to tell? We killed the Mother, failed to save Amaranthine, cleared up a few other messes on the way. A lot of good people died. Oh, an' we got rid of that Architect fellow. A blighted monstrosity, he was."

"Yes, the Architect..." Loghain pondered for a moment. "I was told he offered Morena a pact and she refused."

"'Course she did!" Oghren's voice was full of righteous indignation. "He wanted to use Grey Warden blood for his evil plans. No Warden would ever make such a deal!"

"Don't presume to speak for all of us, dwarf." Velanna's voice was cool.

Loghain turned to her. "So you would have decided differently?"

"You must understand," Sigrun said, placing a calming hand on Velanna's arm, "if Morena had accepted the Architect's offer, we might have had a chance to save Velanna's sister. Now we'll likely never find Seranni." She sighed. "Morena refused to take Seranni's fate into account. She said she wasn't about to betray her principles for a knife-ear."

Velanna's colour deepened at the memory of the insult and Nathaniel threw her a sharp look. "Now that I think about it, Velanna, you certainly had no reason to love Morena."

The elf laughed, a short bitter laugh. "So you think I killed her? Because she didn't save my sister?" Her remark was greeted by a sudden silence that was answer enough. Ser Garevel was frantically scribbling notes on a sheet of paper. "Oh come on, everyone!" Velanna shook her head. "She let someone dear to me die, yes. But that is true for almost everyone in this room. We all had a reason to hate her. Some more than others, perhaps." She let her eyes travel around the table, meeting every gaze with a provocative smile. Several of the Wardens shook their heads and Mistress Woolsey's lips formed a thin line of disapproval. Only Zevran seemed openly amused.

Velanna laughed mirthlessly. "As a matter of fact, I can think of at least one person who had just as much reason to kill her as I did..."

The silence became oppressive.

* * *

At a gesture from Loghain, Nathaniel joined him again in the library after dinner.

"So, what do you say?" As soon as the door closed behind them, Nathaniel began to pace the room. "Is Velanna guilty?"

"I don't know." Loghain sighed. "All I know is that if she isn't, she's playing a dangerous game."

"I wonder who she meant. You know, when she said there was another person..." Nathaniel's voice drifted off, and his eyes wandered up to the large portrait hanging above the desk.

Loghain followed his gaze. "Your mother."

"Yes." Nathaniel nodded. "She would have hated all this. Strangers in the Keep. Murder in her house. But she was lucky. She didn't live to see what happened to the Howe family."

Loghain heard the barely contained pain and bitterness. "None of it is your fault, Nathaniel. Your father-"

The knock interrupted him. Mistress Woolsey stood in the open doorway, her expression one of long suffering. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Commander. It's the dwarf. We need your help. Please."

 


	6. A Deep Fall

**Chapter 6 - A Deep Fall**

The first thing they heard was a loud clatter, then a high-pitched yelp of pain, followed by a guttural roar of laughter.

"Serves you right, you knife-eared pipe-cleaner!" Oghren's speech was so slurred it was hard to make out the words.

On turning the corner into the throne room, Loghain and Nathaniel came face to face with a scene that would have been comical under different circumstances. Oghren was standing in his favourite place, close to the large cask of ale kept there to provide refreshments for visitors to the Keep. In his hand he had a small flask from which he was taking another deep swig. Several overturned chairs were scattered around him on the floor, most of them broken by the impact. In front of him, Zevran was hopping up and down on one leg, clutching his naked foot, a large wooden splinter stuck in his sole.

The assassin's face wore an expression of disgust. "Bah, you're drunk again, Oghren! At least stick to ale and keep away from that vile stuff! The stench alone is worse-"

"Drunk again, drunk again! Ha!" Oghren was reaching out for another chair. "You sound like my father!" Then his eyes fell on Loghain and Nathaniel, and he found a new target for his rage. "You! What are you doing here, _Commander_? And you, Howe?" The dwarf was swaying on his feet. "Still out to avenge that evil bitch Morena? You needn't bother!"

Zevran grabbed his arm, trying in vain to hold him back. He ended up being dragged along on the floor as Oghren advanced toward the two men like a charging bronto. "I'm tellin' ye, she betrayed all of us. All of us! But you-” he burped loudly. "You thought the sun was shinin' outa her ass, jus' because she had you by the balls. Yes, I'm talkin' about you, Howe! You moron!"

Pushing Zevran aside, the dwarf tried to shove Nathaniel in the chest, but Loghain stepped in, catching his wrist in a vise-like grip.

"Enough, Oghren!" His deep voice carried in the vast room, echoing from the rafters. "Calm down. What did Morena do to you?"

Oghren made a weak attempt to fight back, but Nathaniel had moved behind him, taking hold of his other arm. Looking dimly from one face to the other, he realized he was outnumbered. Within seconds, all the bluster went out of him and he slumped down to his knees. He hung his head and began to sob. "She killed my Branka. My love. Such a fine, fine woman she was!"

Loghain raised a questioning eyebrow at Zevran who mouthed a silent “his wife” before squatting down next to Oghren on the floor, patting the dwarf's back. "There, there, my friend. Branka's not worth crying for. She left you, remember?"

"She would'a come home!" Oghren sniffled noisily. "I know she still cared about me. Soft-hearted, she was, under all that armour..." He gulped. "And anyway, who cares about golems and anvils and all that. I want my Branka back!"

Zevran motioned for Mistress Woolsey to come over and help him pull Oghren to his feet. Now that his fury had evaporated, the dwarf followed the old woman willingly out of the room.

"She'll take him to his quarters and see that the servants put him to bed." Zevran breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for your help, Commander. Normally we can make him see reason, but tonight..."

"What was he talking about?" Nathaniel felt exhausted. "He mentioned golems."

"The _Anvil of the Void_." Zevran obviously relished the dramatic flavour of the name. "The dwarves used it to build golems. When Morena destroyed it, Branka went mad and attacked us. Oghren tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen. We didn't want to kill her, but then she stumbled back into a chasm and she... just fell." He shrugged gracefully, rolling his eyes upward. "Oghren's better off without her, but that's love, no? He still wants to believe in her. Don't we all want to believe in the person we love?"

Nathaniel shifted uncomfortably under the assassin's piercing gaze. "Let's get to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

* * *

But none of them got much sleep that night. Loghain lay awake for a long time, trying to make sense of the tangle of motives they had uncovered so far. Morena had managed to antagonize almost everyone she had met in her short life. And yet none of them had been able to walk away, to just leave her behind and get on without her. For better or worse, they had all been tied to her.

Nathaniel didn't fare much better. Nightmares kept chasing each other in his overtired mind.

 _Morena, naked on his bed, her body writhing in agony, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her icy-cold fingers suddenly grabbing his arm as he was keeping vigil over her corpse in the chapel._ _The Architect, drinking her blood with relish, a triumphant smirk on his face._

It was a relief when a loud banging on his door woke him at dawn.

It was Loghain, already dressed, his face grim. "You'd better come along. I've already sent for the mage. It's Velanna. They found her body in the courtyard."

* * *

They met Anders at the back door. He was carrying a small red tabby cat that he carefully set down on the floor. "There you go, Pounce." The cat slunk off and he stretched, yawning. "We have another one? Who is it this time?"

Loghain threw him a dark look, but Nathaniel wasn't deceived by the levity. He was struck by the haunted look on Anders' face. His eyes were red-rimmed from more than just lack of sleep, and he seemed even more gaunt than usual. _Morena's death must have been a blow for him._ The two had known each other practically since childhood. Nathaniel sighed inwardly. The mage was the only other Warden he had come to regard as a friend, and he hated to see him like this.

Velanna's body was lying on the frozen ground, just below a little turret on top of the battlements. Her neck was bent at an impossible angle and her large blue-green eyes were staring sightlessly into empty space. Anders knelt down at her side and let his hands wander over her stiff limbs, checking for further injuries.

"I think she died from the fall," he finally pronounced. "There's a small wound on the back of her head, and a few bruises on her arms and legs, but nothing that indicates an attack with any kind of weapon. She broke her neck. Well, you probably guessed as much."

Loghain looked up at the battlements. "What was she doing up there?"

"It was her favourite spot in the Keep." Nathaniel swallowed. "She liked to be out there, under the open sky, especially in the evenings. She was Dalish, after all, and hated being surrounded by stone walls all the time."

"And who knew about that habit of hers?" Loghain fixed both Wardens with his gaze.

Anders just shrugged. "Every single person in the Keep, I'd say. Velanna didn't make a secret of her feelings. If she hated something, everyone knew about it."

"Let's take her to the chapel." Loghain rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, closing his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on. "Any news on the poison used on Morena?"

To his surprise, Anders nodded. "Yes. _Quiet Death_. A particularly effective and rare poison. Not easy to come by under normal circumstances. But our murderer got lucky. "

"What do you mean, 'got lucky'?" Loghain felt increasingly irritated by the mage's flippancy.

"Well, Velanna made some for me a few weeks ago. I kept it in my room, among my healing supplies." Anders smiled wryly. "A small dose is quite effective in the treatment of certain conditions, you know. But the vial is gone."

"What do you mean, _gone_?" Nathaniel sounded incredulous.

Anders shrugged. "Gone. _Poof_. It's disappeared. I have no idea who could have taken it."

Loghain heard Nathaniel's sharp intake of breath. For a moment he had to fight the urge to shake the mage. _Who indeed? Who but the murderer?_


	7. By Royal Command

**Chapter 7 - By Royal Command**

They took Velanna to the chapel, putting her on a bier next to Morena's. Loghain couldn't quite suppress a shudder at the sight of the two shrouded bodies. He wasn't a superstitious man by nature, but for a moment, he had a vision of the chapel filling up with bodies, one after the other. _We need to find this killer._

Velanna's body was so stiff from the cold they had problems arranging her in a dignified posture, and Nathaniel frowned. "She must have been out there for most of the night. I wonder when she died. Anders?"

The mage shrugged. "I'd say, shortly after midnight. It's hard to say in this weather, of course, but that's consistent with the state the body is in. And I doubt she'd have gone out later at night in this cold."

"Well, that effectively clears at least one person from any suspicion," Nathaniel pointed out. "Alistair," he elaborated when the others looked at him questioningly. "If I'm not mistaken, he was locked up overnight, wasn't he, Mistress Woolsey?"

The treasurer looked up from Velanna's face that she had been trying to clean. "That is correct. And, if I may add, it also removes any suspicion from Oghren. He was so drunk that I decided to sit with him for a while last night, in order to make sure he wouldn't suffocate in his sleep. When I left at two in the morning, he was still fast asleep."

"Of course, you don't know if the same person killed both of them." Zevran's voice rang from the back of the room, the volume magnified by the chapel's vaulted ceiling. "It's a reasonable assumption, of course, but we can't be sure."

The assassin walked up to the bier, studying Velanna's body with a detached professional interest. "A very different method of killing, yes? Poor Velanna. She wouldn't have appreciated being so disfigured. Poison is so much more... elegant, don't you think?"

Nathaniel threw him a dark look. "I don't think Velanna would have appreciated being poisoned either. Listen, Zevran, that kind of talk may be acceptable among assassins, but here..."

The assassin bowed with a flourish. "Of course, Warden. My apologies. Still, it's a valid point, don't you agree?"

* * *

Walking back to his room, Loghain felt almost overwhelmed by the thoughts swirling in his head. So many leads and not one were taking them anywhere.

They'd had a confession of sorts from Alistair, but he'd never taken that seriously in the first place. As for the others... Anyone could have pushed Velanna down - she was a slight woman and it wouldn't have taken much strength. And the poison used to kill Morena... He paused for a moment. Who could have taken the poison from Anders' room?

Anders had mentioned that he usually locked the door when he went out, out of habit, because he kept his lyrium potions there. But there were probably a number of keys to every room in the Keep. The servants would have to be able to get in to clean and to stoke the fires. Besides, it was a simple enough lock. Any rogue worth his salt would be able to pick it. He mentally ticked the names off on his fingers. Sigrun. Zevran. _Heck,_ _Nathaniel could have done it_. Loghain sighed as he let himself into his sitting room and walked over to the fireplace.

"My lord?" He looked up to see Ser Cauthrien stand in the doorway. Her dark eyes were focussed on him with her usual intense expression. "Could I have a moment of your time?"

Loghain felt a brief rush of pride and affection at the sight of her in her uniform as Commander of the Queen's Guard. Cauthrien had been his special protégé, and he was glad Morena had spared her life during the Blight Year. He'd always admired the young woman's single-minded determination and valued her absolute loyalty to himself. A loyalty that had now been transferred to his daughter, the Queen.

"That is a title I no longer have any claim to," he grunted, hiding his emotions behind formalities.

She blushed. "My apologies, Commander. I... have a letter for you from her Majesty, the Queen. She asked me to give it to you in private."

His eyebrows went up. "A message for me? Anora couldn't even be sure I'd be here."

Cauthrien nodded. "She told me to hold on to it and only to hand it to you if... Anyway, this is it." She held out a folded and sealed bit of parchment to him.

As soon as he took it, she turned on her heel and was gone before he could ask further questions. With a frown, he broke the seal. To his surprise the letter was written in a cipher Anora and he had successfully used back in the Blight days. It took him a few minutes to get the hang of it again, but after that, he was able to work it out quickly with the help of a quill and a second sheet of parchment. As soon as he had made sense of the words, he sat back in his chair, a heavy feeling spreading in his stomach. His eyes wandered back to what he'd written out.

_I heard you might be back from Orlais already, and I had to warn you, Father. Morena is a danger to us all. Despite all the boons I've granted her, she won't stop pestering me about mages' rights. For every freedom I give them, she demands another one. I dare not refuse her - she knows too much, and she's made it very clear she intends to use that knowledge if I don't cooperate. But I simply can't give in any more, not without endangering my position. I've taken steps to get rid of her, Father. I'm sure the person I've sent will be able to deal with her. If all goes well, she'll be gone by the time you read this. I just hope you can avoid suspicion._

_Anora_

Loghain was still staring at the sheet of parchment, his hand shaking uncontrollably, when there was a brief knock on the door. Nathaniel walked in without waiting for an answer.

Without thinking, Loghain crumpled up the two pieces of parchment and slung them into the fire. It was a purely instinctual reaction.

Nathaniel's eyes followed his movement, widening in wary surprise. "What-"

"A family matter." Loghain knew he sounded irritable, and he probably looked guilty as sin. _Damn. Why did he have to walk in at precisely this moment?_ He needed to talk to the assassin. Soon. But first, he needed time to think.

 


	8. The Assassin's Oath

**Chapter 8 - The Assassin's Oath**

It took Loghain the better part of two days to make up his mind and talk to Zevran.

A curious quiet had settled over the Keep. People kept to their rooms as much as they could, emerging only for mealtimes. Leaving the Keep was still impossible. There had been more snowfalls and the weather was showing no sign of letting up.

At the same time, no one seemed particularly eager to find Morena's murderer. Seneschal Garevel had been visibly annoyed because he hadn't been called to the scene of Velanna's death with the others, but he hadn't offered any insights either. Loghain had even overheard two servants speculating that Velanna had killed the Commander and then thrown herself off the battlements in a fit of remorse. He had to suppress a loud snort at that. Velanna was hardly the type to be overwhelmed by guilt.

Still, the brief lull gave him an opportunity to get better acquainted with his new role, with the help of Nathaniel. He was surprised at how much he enjoyed the company of Rendon's son. Nathaniel was not at all like his father. He lacked the raw, ruthless ambition that had been such a defining part of the elder Howe's character. In his son, it had been replaced by a firm, quiet determination to restore his family's name to its former glory. And if the only way to do this was by becoming a shining example of what a Grey Warden should be, then that's what he would do.

Nathaniel had become more reserved since the incident with Anora's letter, though. It pained Loghain to see suspicion crossing the young man's features more than once, while they were discussing Morena's decisions or the Keep's defences. 

He knew he couldn't ignore the implications of Anora's letter forever. Twice he tried to talk to Ser Cauthrien, but she refused to answer his questions, claiming the Queen had ordered her to remain silent on the topic. His only chance to find out more was the assassin. Still, he kept postponing the inevitable interview. Some part of him didn't want to know.

But on the third morning after Morena's death, Seneschal Garevel approached him after breakfast, when he was about to leave the dining room.

"Commander?" The expression on the young man's honest open face was a curious mixture of embarrassment and determination. "I was wondering... could I have a word with you? A few interesting things have come up while I was going through the Warden Commander's papers, and I'd appreciate your opinion." He flinched, obviously wrestling with his pride. "A man with your experience... I don't think I can make those decisions on my own. Also, there's something else that-"

Loghain cut him off with an impatient gesture. Several people had already noticed their conversation and were looking up from their bowls, straining to hear what it was about. Sigrun brushed past them, her face carefully unconcerned. Had she heard? Garevel seemed oblivious. _Stupid young pup!_ It was a pity, really, that Varel had died, throwing himself at an angry ogre to defend the Keep. The old Seneschal would have been a real help in this matter. Still, at least now he would have a chance to finally look at Morena's papers. And if there really was anything to implicate Anora, Garevel might actually be easier to deal with than his predecessor.

Loghain sighed wearily. "Of course, Ser Garevel. Come to my quarters after lunch. There's an urgent matter that I have to take care of first." 

* * *

It took him a while to track Zevran down. When Loghain finally located him in Oghren's room where he was chatting animatedly with the dwarf, the assassin readily agreed to a meeting in private. But when they were settled in a pair of comfortable armchairs in his quarters, Loghain found that he didn't quite know where to start.

"You... came here by way of Denerim, didn't you, Zevran?" He carefully felt his way through the conversation, unwilling to give too much away.

"That is correct." Zevran's eyes were twinkling. It was obvious he was enjoying Loghain's discomfort. "I looked up a few old friends there. The city has changed much since the Blight Year, but I'd say it's changed for the better. It's still a far cry from the wonders of Antiva City or Val Royeaux, but-"

"Yes, yes, that may be." Loghain couldn't hide his impatience. "I was wondering - did you by any chance seek an audience with my daughter, the Queen?"

"No." Zevran's answer came without hesitation and Loghain was about to lean back with a sigh of relief, when the assassin raised his right hand. "But she arranged for me to come and see her in private. She wanted to... make use of my services, she said."

Loghain swallowed. "She did?"

"Yes." Zevran's face had become hard and his voice held a curious quality, icy and emotionless. "She did. Your daughter offered me a princely sum for Morena's death."

Loghain opened his mouth to speak, but the assassin shook his head. "I declined. No amount of money would have made me kill Morena. You see, back when she spared my life, I swore I'd be her man, without reservations."

"And you expect me to believe that would have stopped you? An Antivan Crow? A paid killer?" Loghain could hardly keep the disdain out of his voice.

Zevran remained calm and composed. "I don't make such promises lightly, Commander, no matter what you may think. Besides, do you honestly think I would have been caught in the Keep if I had done it?"

"Maybe you misjudged the Fereldan weather. A Northerner like you... Or it could be part of your plan," Loghain pointed out. "Playing the innocent, all the while trying to cover up your tracks."

"Ah, now you flatter me, Commander." Zevran grinned broadly. "What an elaborate plot on my part, no? Much as I'm tempted to take credit for this, I have to disappoint you. Whoever killed Morena, it wasn't me."

"Funnily enough, I tend to believe you." Loghain took a deep breath. "But who else could have done it?"

The assassin stretched voluptuously in his chair. "Well, have you considered the lovely Ser Cauthrien? I think she would be willing to go to any lengths to serve her Queen. Besides, I don't know why your daughter wanted Morena dead, but she was hardly the only one."

Loghain sighed. "True. It seems everyone had a reason to kill her. Politics, revenge, jealousy. Speaking of which... weren't you her lover once too?"

Zevran chuckled, a nostalgic expression on his face as he recalled happier times. "I wouldn't call it  _lover_. I was allowed to warm her bed for a few nights, and I like to think it was an enjoyable experience for both of us. But then, after Redcliffe, she set her sights on Alistair. No doubt a royal bastard was a far more enticing prospect than a disgraced assassin. And who could blame her?" He sounded philosophical about the whole thing.

His sharp eyes turned on Loghain. "But what about you, my dear Commander? I was under the impression that you, too, had fallen victim to her considerable charms. Were  _you_  perhaps in love with her?"

"Hardly." Loghain snorted. "At my age, I'm well past such romantic nonsense."

The assassin laughed merrily. "Ah, but in my experience, age has very little to do with how deeply you love, my friend. Sometimes the feeling just grows more powerful as people approach the winter of their lives." He grew serious again. "Still, even if you didn't love her, you were her friend, just as much as I was, no?"

Loghain shook his head. "I don't know. The more I learn about her, the more I doubt Morena had any real friends."

Zevran shrugged. "Well, even if you discount present company, there is always Anders. He knew her back in the Tower, when she was a young girl, and I believe she trusted him."

Their eyes met, and each read the thought in the other's face.  _Did she trust him too much?_ But the question remained unspoken. A loud knock on the door called them both to attention.

Nathaniel's face looked pale and drawn. "Seneschal Garevel is dead. A guard just found him, out on the battlements." 

* * *

Once again they went through a routine that was fast becoming eerily familiar. Anders was called to determine the cause of death. He took his time examining the body, frowning a little, as if something was bothering him.

"All the signs point to poison," he finally sighed. "In all probability another case of Quiet Death. There's no sign of anything he could have eaten or drunk, though, and that is curious, because it works instantaneously. There are no visible injuries either. It's a bit of a mystery how the poison was administered." He got up and shook out his robes. "Of course I could cut him up and check the contents of his stomach."

A stunned silence greeted his words. Anders looked from one shocked face to the other. Only Zevran seemed unperturbed. Without looking at any of them, the assassin took out his dagger and began cleaning his nails, whistling softly under his breath.

Anders cleared his throat. "Well, an autopsy would remove any possible doubt. I'm told it's a common enough practice in Rivain..."

"That is out of the question." Loghain's voice was firm. "Ser Garevel was a good man and a devout Andrastian, and there's no need to desecrate his body with such heathen customs."

Nathaniel nodded emphatically, and Anders shrugged. "Have it your way. It probably doesn't matter."

Two guards arrived to carry off Ser Garevel's body. Loghain kicked a dead pigeon off the battlements and turned to go. Nathaniel's eyes followed the bird as it tumbled to the ground and he frowned. Something was bothering him, an idea he couldn't quite get a grasp on. With a shrug, he gave up and followed Loghain into the warmth of the Keep.


	9. Past Loves

**Chapter 9 - Past Loves**

"We have to talk." Loghain gestured to Nathaniel to join him in the library. Nathaniel nodded, but didn't say a word until the door had closed behind them.

Then he turned to face the other man. "You've been keeping important information from me, haven't you? Why is that, Commander? Don't you trust me with it?"

Loghain shook his head. "No. If there's anyone in the Keep that I trust, it's you. The reason I've been so... reticent is that I had cause to believe my daughter is involved in this."

"Queen Anora?" Nathaniel seemed genuinely shocked. "But surely she wouldn't-"

"Oh yes, she would." Loghain briefly closed his eyes. "Trust me, Howe, I know my daughter very well. Anora's only real loyalty is to herself. She's capable and determined, and she'll sacrifice almost anything and anyone for her goals. You'd do well to remember that, if you have any further dealings with her in the future."

"I understand that you would wish to... protect her. But why tell me now?" Nathaniel sounded confused and rather wary.

"Things have gone too far." Loghain's face had turned hard as stone. "Ser Garevel's death... If she really is behind this, then I'm no longer willing to close my eyes to it. She may be my only daughter, but I won't keep quiet as more and more innocent people die."

Nathaniel didn't point out that Loghain had apparently been ready to overlook Morena's and Velanna's deaths. No doubt he had fought his own battle with his conscience. And admittedly neither of them could be called innocent.

"Well..." He took a deep breath. "I don't really see why Anora would want Ser Garevel dead. Or Velanna for that matter. So maybe you're wrong about this. Anyway, I owe you an apology, Commander. For a little while, I was actually suspecting _you_ , because you were behaving so strangely."

Loghain shrugged. "Don't mention it. To be quite honest, I'm surprised you didn't blame me earlier. You loved Morena, and you had every reason to be mad at me."

Nathaniel laughed mirthlessly. "True enough. Although.... To tell you the truth, I'm no longer sure about what I was feeling for Morena. It's strange. The longer she's gone, the more I feel as if I'm waking up from a dream. Sometimes I don't even know why I ever cared about her. Maybe I never really loved her."

 There was a hint of guilt in his voice, and Loghain briefly patted him on the back. "Don't blame yourself for this, Howe. I'm no stranger to loss myself, and we all deal with it in our own way. Come on. Let's take a look at those papers."

* * *

On their way to Ser Garevel's quarters, they ran into Mistress Woolsey. On impulse, Loghain stopped her. "Mistress Woolsey? You wouldn't happen to know where Seneschal Garevel kept his important papers?" He mentally braced himself for another lecture. The old lady was rather tedious sometimes. 

Mistress Woolsey looked pale and shaken, but at his words, she straightened. "Of course, Commander. Seneschal Garevel trusted me, just like his predecessor, Seneschal Varel did..." The note of pride in her voice was unmistakable. "Follow me, please."

Loghain and Nathaniel accompanied the old woman down to Garevel's office where she pointed out a secret compartment at the back of his large wooden desk. 

"I've seen him put papers in there." Mistress Woolsey discreetly retired to the door.

Loghain reached under the table and cursed. "How does this open?"

"Let me." Nathaniel fumbled around for a moment. When the door to the compartment swung open, he looked up with a bright, boyish grin. "This desk belonged to my grandfather once. He used to hide candy in there."

Loghain almost smiled, but then he turned his attention back to the little cabinet that had been revealed. It was filled to the brim with papers, some of them of a private nature, some related to military secrets Garevel had been privy to. But there was also a medium-sized stack of documents and notes related to the murders, and Loghain and Nathaniel eagerly began to peruse them.

When they came to the Queen's letter to Morena, Loghain tensed. Most of the letter was taken up by a dry discussion of several bureaucratic problems concerning the arldom. But there was a post-script that made him breathe a sigh of relief when he realized its implications. Anora was offering Morena a final settlement of their mutual debts. Loghain's eyes quickly scanned the proposal.

 _A free mage enclave in the mountains, near Soldier's Peak. Royal guarantees of safety and protection. Grants of land and titles to make sure they would be well provided for. In exchange, Morena was to resign her present position in Nathaniel's favour, move to the old fortress, and solemnly swear to desist from further demands._ _And she was to hand over certain documents found in Ostagar._

Loghain knew what papers she meant. They threw a very bad light on his and Anora's role in Cailan's death.

He had little doubt that Morena would have accepted an offer of that magnitude. Anora must have rethought her strategy after her conversation with the assassin. Loghain felt a flash of pride when he thought of his daughter. What a consummate politician she had become!

They had almost given up on finding any conclusive evidence, when they reached the document right at the bottom of the parcel - the letter Morena had been writing at the time of her death.

" _My dear Rica_ ,"Loghain read aloud, then he paused with a frown. "Who is Rica?"

"King Bhelen Aeducan's mistress." Nathaniel replied with a promptness that surprised him. "She and Morena became great friends back in Orzammar, and they exchanged letters regularly. What did Morena write?"

Loghain put the letter down on the desk where they could both read it. It began with a number of inconsequential requests and the exchange of gossip. But the last passage was a lot more interesting...

_... As for the Harrowmonts, it is of course regrettable that the King was forced to order so many executions. It is sad to hear that there are no survivors of that noble house. But surely you must realize that he has little choice in this matter if he wants to preserve his throne. I'm sure he only has your safety and little Endrin's in mind. People in power have to get used to making hard decisions, and your duty in this is to support the King, not add to his worries by nagging about the fate of his enemies...._

Nathaniel hissed through his teeth. "So Bhelen had them all killed! That's a lot of lives on Morena's conscience."

When Loghain eyed him questioningly, he elaborated. "It was her decision to support Bhelen, wasn't it? From what Oghren told me, she could just as well have made Harrowmont king."

Loghain nodded. "True enough. Well, it seems Morena didn't lose much sleep over it. But look at this."

A note was scribbled into the margin of the parchment, probably in Garevel's hand. It was tiny and hardly legible, but together they managed to decipher it. _Sigrun & P. Harrowmont  - love affair?_

"I believe we have just discovered a possible motive." Loghain's face turned grim. 

* * *

They found Sigrun in the throne room. She was sitting on a bench and sharpening the edge of her war axe with loving care, humming a merry little tune. When they approached her, she looked up in surprise, but didn't bother to get up.

"Commander." Her voice held a faintly ironic note at the use of the title. "What can I do for you?"

"You could tell us about your connection to House Harrowmont?" Loghain watched her face carefully. 

The dwarf frowned. "My connection to House Harrowmont?  I am... was a duster, Commander. I wasn't that well connected."

"Yet according to Ser Garevel's notes you once had an affair with a scion of that house." 

"A scion..." Sigrun seemed genuinely flabbergasted, but then understanding dawned on her face. "Oh! You mean Perron! I wouldn't call that an affair... I mean, he was a noble and I..." For a moment, her features softened, and her gaze turned inward as she recalled the past, but then she shook herself. "By the stone! How did Garevel find out about that old hat? I believe I told Anders about it once, when I was drunk... But honestly, Commander, that was a  _very_  long time ago. I had clean forgotten about Perron until you mentioned him just now. Why is this important?"

"He's dead." Nathaniel had kept to the background, but he too was observing Sigrun's reaction closely. "Just like every other member of his house. Dead because Morena chose to support Prince Bhelen."

The dwarf threw him a sharp look. "I see. So now you think... Look, I'm sorry to hear he's gone. He was a sweet lad and he didn't deserve to die." She sighed. "I'm glad I'm out of Orzammar, I truly am. It's not a nice place. Not for dusters. Not for nobles. But all that is long past. I'm already dead, don't you know?" She looked at their doubtful expressions. "Why would I kill Morena for something that no longer has any meaning for me? And Velanna was my friend, kind of. Besides, the night she died-"

Sigrun blushed and hesitated before she went on. "I... spent most of that night in the bathroom. Must have been something I ate. You can ask Anders, if you want. He checked on me a number of times, and he'll confirm I was in no state to go traipsing around the battlements." The dwarf shook her head. "Actually, if you're looking for a romantic love story behind all this, you'd better talk to him anyway."

"Anders?" Loghain looked at her blankly. "Why him?"

Sigrun rolled her eyes. "Men! If you can't see he was madly in love with Morena, you must be blind! But then, most men are."

 


	10. In the Blood

**Chapter 10 - In the Blood**

When Sigrun had left, Nathaniel looked at Loghain, stunned. "Anders? But I thought..." He ran his hands through his hair in agitation. "He always behaved like an older brother toward her. You know, what with their shared past, and... I never..."

"Damn Morena!" Loghain cursed in frustration. "It seems no one could resist her. The more I learn about her, the more I think-" He broke off. "But keep in mind, Howe, we don't know if it's true. And even if it is, we don't know if she was aware of Anders' infatuation with her."

"You're right." Nathaniel was breathing heavily. "You know, I just realized we've been relying on his word all the time. All the things he told us, about when people died, what they died of, which poison was used. He could have lied to us all the time. And everyone trusted him. Maker!" His eyes widened as an idea struck him. "I even overheard Garevel asking him for a sleeping draught yesterday."

Loghain shook his head. "You're getting ahead of yourself. This is all speculation. Why would Garevel drink a sleeping draught while he was out inspecting the battlements? No. We need to hear Anders' version of the events first."

* * *

Anders was in his room, sitting on a bench near the window, with a large plate of honey cakes by his side and a small, well-worn book in his hand. Pounce was lying on his lap, purring happily, occasionally hooking a claw into the soft fabric of his robes. The mage greeted Nate with a friendly smile and Loghain with a slightly more reserved nod.

Loghain closed the door behind them with an audible snap. "Anders. We need to talk."

Anders seemed unconcerned. "Of course, Commander. Nate. What's on your mind?"

Nathaniel hesitated. "Look, Anders, you're my friend. You know I like you. But I'm worried. You have to realize that lately a lot of hints have been pointing in your direction."

Anders looked at them for a moment, sincere incomprehension on his face, then, to their surprise, he laughed out loud. "Let me get this straight. You think _I_ killed Morena? And the others?"

"You certainly had every opportunity to do so." Nathaniel replied stiffly. "I fail to see why you're so amused-"

Anders raised a hand to interrupt him, still fighting back a chuckle. "Wait a minute. Of course I had every opportunity. So did you, by the way. But why in Andraste's name would I have wanted to kill Morena? Now, Velanna, I can see why I would want to get rid of her. She was a pain, most of the time." He grew serious, and there was an unexpected soft smile on his lips. "But not Morena. Never."

Nathaniel and Loghain exchanged a quick glance. _Well, Sigrun got that bit right._

"Isn't it obvious?" Loghain's voice was gruff. "Because you loved her. Because you couldn't bear to watch any more."

"Watch what?" Anders seemed confused.

"Watch her with others. With Loghain. With me. You must have been horribly jealous!" Nathaniel was getting impatient.

Anders stared at him for a moment, then he shook his head, a sad little smile on his face. "I see. Oh Nate, Nate, I am _so_ sorry. Don't you realize... I would never have killed Morena. I couldn't have harmed her. Besides, I had no reason to be jealous, none at all. I knew she would always come back to me."

There was a moment of silence when both Nathaniel and Loghain were staring at him incredulously.

Anders shrugged. "Of course she slept with others. Using her body to get what she wanted, to tie people to her... That was second nature to her. She probably didn't even think about it."

Nathaniel's face had grown dark at his words. "Using her body... Using _others_ , you mean?" He sounded bitter.

The mage sighed. "Nate, you have to understand. Back in the Tower, we couldn't afford to be romantic about sex. It was... a game at best, a punishment at worst. A means of survival in most cases. She knew I understood. She knew I'd always welcome her back with open arms." He smiled affectionately, but there was a world of grief in his eyes. "She didn't even have to use her magic on me. She was in my blood anyway."

"What do you mean, her magic?" Nathaniel had grown deathly pale.

Anders looked at him, unable to hide his sympathy. "You mean you hadn't worked it out yet? What did she do, Nate? Bite you, accidentally cut your finger? Scratch you with her ring?" He sighed. "Oh, she perfected all those little tricks, back then, practised them on the templars at the Tower. By the time she was sixteen, she had studied all the books on blood magic in the library, and she knew how to control them, how to make them do her bidding. They never even noticed what was happening. She was very subtle, very careful."

"She... I need air!" Without looking at them, Nathaniel got up and staggered towards the door.

Anders followed him with his eyes. "Poor Nate. Maybe I shouldn't have told him."

"It's a bit late for regrets." Loghain didn't bother to hide his contempt. "Blood magic!" He practically spat out the words. He had known Morena was ruthless, but somehow he hadn't expected this. He tried to recall the times when he had shared her bed. There had been plenty of fighting - theirs hadn't been a tender relationship. But had she-

Anders seemed to read his thoughts. "I don't think she used any of her tricks on you. She respected you, Loghain, more than anyone else. And I believe you had no illusions about her. Nate, however... Or Alistair... They were both far too good for her, far too decent."

 _Alistair_. Loghain had gone to see the young man only last night, tried to talk to him, but Alistair had alternated between bouts of crying and attempts to attack him with his bare fists. Yet Mistress Woolsey had claimed he had actually gotten better since Morena was gone... Well, if Anders was right, the effect of the blood magic should wear off with her death.

He frowned. "But if she used blood magic on Alistair, why didn't she release him when she had no further use for him?"

Anders seemed unconcerned. "I've no idea. Maybe she wanted to punish him. You see, she had it all planned out so nicely. Alistair would be king, and she'd be his mistress and the real power behind the throne. But when she pardoned you... She couldn't make Alistair betray his innermost convictions, not without turning him into a mindless thrall. She _could_ make sure he'd never stop loving her, though." He smiled a tired smile. "It wasn't wise to cross Morena."

Loghain sighed. "Most people would say she got what was coming to her."

"Don't be so quick to judge her." Anders stepped back to the window and looked out over the snowy landscape. "She was barely fourteen when Ser Agravain decided he had to have her. I... tried to console her, but Morena never wanted solace. She wanted revenge. She wanted to gain the upper hand." He turned back and looked the other man squarely in the eyes. "And that is something you can understand, isn't it, Loghain?"

Loghain's eyes narrowed. "You presume too much, mage." _Even if he is closer to the truth than he'll ever know._

He turned to go, when a thought crossed his mind. "Out of curiosity, Anders... you never mentioned who you needed the Quiet Death for."

"I didn't think it was important." Anders' tone was light. "Why do you want to know?"

 


	11. Unravelling the Mystery

**Chapter 11 - Unravelling the Mystery**

Anders was adamant at first. "No, I can't tell you, Commander. People trust their healer not to talk. I bet you wouldn't appreciate it if I told everyone about any... ailment you might be suffering from, would you?"

"Look, Anders, this isn't the time for your little games." Loghain was growing impatient. "We're looking for a murderer here. And if you want me to believe in your innocence..."

"Fine, fine." Anders grumbled. "Though I fail to see a connection between the murders and old Mistress Woolsey's heart condition."

"A heart condition?" Loghain was surprised. The old woman had always seemed as healthy as a horse to him. "A fatal one? Is she dying?"

Anders shrugged. "That would depend. If she leads a quiet life, keeps taking her new medicine, avoids stress... she may well last another ten years. But she could also die tomorrow. The present conditions are hardly conducive to her health, that much is certain."

Loghain sighed. "They aren't conducive to anyone's well-being, believe me." He got up to leave the room. "I need to talk to Howe."

 

* * *

Nathaniel had disappeared. Loghain searched half of the Keep, until Oghren pointed him to a little used back stair. Climbing up, he found the young man in a dusty old room filled with cobwebs and broken toys. Nathaniel looked physically sick, his face pale and clammy, his eyes feverish.

"Our old nursery." He indicated his surroundings with a quick motion of his head. "I thought I could have some peace here."

Loghain took a seat on one of the scratched, ink-stained desks. For a moment he indulged in imagining what this room must have looked like twenty years ago; young Thomas and Nathaniel working at their lessons, while little Delilah was playing with the tiny wooden horse. He shook off the vision with an impatient grunt. _I'm getting old and sentimental_.

"You have to snap out of this, Nathaniel," he said aloud. "I need your help."

"My help? Why?" The bitterness in Nathaniel's voice was almost tangible. "Why should I care who killed her?"

"You do care!" Loghain was tempted to shake him. "Look, I don't know about Morena, but I believe you really loved her. And even if you didn't, there's a murderer at large here in the Keep. You have a responsibility. And I've never known a Howe shirk his duties!"

Nathaniel's head snapped up. "You know just how to get to me, don't you?" He sounded tired. "All right. Let's get back to it."

Loghain nodded. "Good. There'll be time to sort out your feelings later."

 

* * *

Back in Loghain's quarters, they spent most of the afternoon going through all their notes, reading all the papers over and over. But it was fruitless.

"We're going in circles," Loghain sighed when they had discussed everyone's motives and opportunities for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I think we need to have another look at the bodies."

Nathaniel's face clearly showed his revulsion. "Do we have to? I-"

"There must be something we've overlooked. Some connection we've missed." Loghain was determined now. "Come."

The air in the chapel was so cold they could see the plumes of air in front of their faces. Loghain examined Morena's body again, while Nathaniel looked Velanna over, but nothing new came to light. When they came to Garevel's corpse, however, and moved it around in order to have a better look at it, something tumbled to the floor with a metallic sound.

"What's that?" Loghain stooped to pick it up. "It must have slipped from his pocket."

It was a small, golden locket, very plain, with a little clasp on the side.

"That was Seneschal Varel's." Nathaniel took the trinket from his hand to examine it more closely. "I remember seeing him wear it." He fumbled with the clasp for a moment until it fell open. "What in Andraste's name-"

The locket contained the tiny portrait of a woman. She looked younger in the painting, her hair a pale blond instead of white, but there was no mistaking Mistress Woolsey's proud, arrogant expression.

"Look, there's an engraving. _Yours forever._ But why would Varel..." Nathaniel's mouth opened for a moment in amazement as things fell into place. "Oh, Maker. Remember what she said about him trusting her. And Velanna... She must have known or guessed about the two of them."

"Morena let someone dear to her die," Loghain quoted Velanna's words grimly. "If Mistress Woolsey was in love with Varel, it all makes sense. And of course she could have done it. She knew about the poison. Anders probably explained to her how dangerous it was. She knew everyone's habits. And she had keys to all the rooms."

"We only have her own word that she was with Oghren the night Velanna died. And Garevel trusted her. She must have manipulated his notes to put us on a false trail." Nathaniel seemed stunned. "Who would have thought she'd be so cunning?"

"I believe it's time we had a chat with her, don't you think?" Loghain got up and pushed his chair back. "I can't say I'm looking forward to this."

 

* * *

"And Seneschal Garevel? How did I kill him?" Mistress Woolsey's voice dripped with sarcasm. "If I recall correctly you can't even be sure he was actually poisoned."

"I think I worked that one out." Nathaniel ignored Loghain's surprised face. "Remember the dead pigeon on the battlements? And Anders was eating leftover honey cakes, which means that Cook made fresh ones this morning." He turned to Mistress Woolsey. "You could easily have poisoned a few and taken them out to Garevel. Any crumbs would have been picked up by the birds."

The old lady raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "An interesting theory, but I doubt you'll be able to prove it. Or do you expect me to make a dramatic confession now?"

Loghain shook his head. "No. I think we have enough proof as it is. And now that we know what to look for, we'll find more. Though I have to admit I don't understand why you would blame Morena for Varel's death. He died a hero. He chose to sacrifice himself to defend the Keep."

Mistress Woolsey's laugh was bitter. "Oh, is that what they told you? No, Commander. Morena sent him to the gate despite his misgivings. An old man and a few foot soldiers against an attacking ogre, while she stayed back. She killed him as surely as if she had slain him herself."

Loghain shrugged. "It's not my place to judge her decision. Still, it's not like you to kill her just for your own petty revenge.”

She smiled at him, but the smile never reached her eyes. "Exactly. And if you're trying to trick me into saying that I killed her, you'll have to be a lot more subtle. But I don't mind telling you that I don't regret Morena's death. She was a disgrace to the Wardens. A whore and a blood mage!" The old woman's eyes were almost feverish now. "And Velanna was just as bad. No. I won't grieve for either of them. Ser Garevel, now, that's sad, even though he was a young fool. Thought he had to prove he could handle the duties of a seneschal all by himself." Mistress Woolsey snorted. "He wasn't half the man Varel was."

Loghain sat back with a sigh. "Varel wouldn't have wanted this."

Mistress Woolsey looked up, her face set like stone. "Varel is gone. And so is Morena. I no longer care about the rest, Commander. Do what you will."

Loghain looked at her for a long moment, remembering Zevran's words. _Sometimes love just grows more powerful as people approach the winter of their lives._  "Call in the guards. We'll send her to Weisshaupt with an armed escort. Let the First Warden decide her fate."

After the guards led Mistress Woolsey out, Nathaniel stayed behind for a moment. "It's a long and arduous journey to the Anderfels, Loghain. At her age and with her illness... You do realize she probably won't survive it."

Loghain nodded. When he closed his eyes, he could see Morena's face, the way she had smiled at him on that last night. "True. She probably won't."

 


	12. Epilogue - Slings and Arrows

**Epilogue - Slings and Arrows**

_Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer_  
 _The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,_  
 _Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,_  
 _And by opposing end them?_  
William Shakespeare: Hamlet

* * *

Loghain's last arrow joined the first three in a neat pattern on the target at the far end of the range.

"Good shot. Not bad for a man your age, Commander." Nathaniel grinned with unabashed glee when Loghain shot him a dark look.

"Archery is as much about experience as it is about a keen eye. Let's see you do better," he grumbled, secretly rejoicing at seeing his second-in-command so uncharacteristically relaxed.

The archery range at Vigil's Keep was set up right next to the orchards in the outer ring of the fortress's ramparts. On a clear spring morning like this, with the apple trees in full bloom, it was a pleasant place to be. Nathaniel and Loghain were on their own, with the other Wardens still asleep or at breakfast. They preferred it that way, both of them caring little for the enthusiastic audience that their skill with the bow would draw at a later hour.

Nathaniel's face was a picture of concentration, his focus completely on the targets, his stance carefully aligned. Stepping back a little, Loghain frowned, then reached out and gently touched the younger man's left shoulder, pushing it down just a fraction of an inch.

"There. That's better." Loghain watched with satisfaction as the arrow hit the centre of the target dead on.

Nathaniel smiled grimly and picked another one, but this time a shadow crossed his face right before he let loose, and he missed by several inches.

Loghain raised an eyebrow. "You were thinking about her." His voice was calm and uninflected.

Nathaniel glared at him angrily, then he shook his head and sighed. "Is it that obvious? Yes. She used to come here with me and watch me practise, you know. It made her-" He broke off, the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

 _I know._ Loghain bit back the words that had been on the tip of his tongue. "Come on." He reached out to pat the younger man's shoulder. "Let's head inside. Time for breakfast."

 

* * *

The dining room seemed warm and stuffy after the time spent outside in the cool morning air. Loghain took in the familiar scene. Anders was seated next to Justice who had recently returned from Amaranthine. The two of them were talking quietly, their faces intense and preoccupied. Oghren was busy trying to cheer up Sigrun, who seemed sad and withdrawn.

Loghain glanced over at Nathaniel whose face had darkened at the sight of Anders, and he wondered, not for the first time, what he could do to help the young man come to terms with Morena's death and its aftermath. The effects of the blood magic she had used on him had dissipated within a few weeks, but Nathaniel's initial grief had given way to a bitterness that threatened to permanently mar his character. For a while, Loghain had hoped that he'd bond with Alistair over their shared fate, but the two of them had never gotten along, too caught up in their mutual embarrassment. When Alistair had left a few weeks ago, Nathaniel had just shrugged, the gesture making it abundantly clear that he couldn't care less.

 

* * *

They spent a boring morning in the library, going through the Keep's accounts together, trying to make sense of the numbers. Loghain groaned in frustration. They would need a replacement for Mistress Woolsey soon. With growing impatience, they were awaiting instructions from the First Warden in Weisshaupt, but so far none had arrived.

It came as a relief when a messenger from Denerim was announced.  The man entered with a snappy salute and handed Loghain a letter from his daughter, Queen Anora.

Loghain waved him away, then turned to the letter. He quickly scanned the page and snorted, a sound halfway between amusement and annoyance.

"Good news?" Nathaniel, who had withdrawn discreetly to the window, looked at him questioningly.

"Anora is getting married. The ceremony will take place in two weeks. It seems they're eager for an heir."

"Well, Congratulations, then!" Nathaniel smiled. "Who is the lucky fellow?"

"Teagan Guerrin." Loghain shook his head. "Apparently her nobles think if they can't have Theirin blood on the throne, a Guerrin is the next best choice."

Nathaniel rubbed his chin pensively. "It makes sense, I guess. Marriage to his brother will guarantee her Arl Eamon's loyalty. And with the Arl's new wife producing one heir after the other, Teagan is no longer needed at Redcliffe."

"True." Loghain laughed mirthlessly. "If you ask me, Eamon wasn't too heartbroken when Morena's ritual freed him of that marriage. Isolde was too old to give him any more children, and with Connor a mage... Anyway, Teagan is a decent chap. A little old for Anora, but I guess they'll get along."

"And there are precious few suitable candidates her own age," Nathaniel pointed out. "Fergus Cousland might have been an option, but after what happened at Highever..."

 _And if things had been a little different and you hadn't ended up a Warden, she would definitely have considered you._ Loghain didn't voice the thought aloud. No use discussing might-have-beens. "No, the Couslands still aren't on speaking terms with our side," he said instead.

Nathaniel sighed, a bitter twist around his mouth. "Well, I guess one can't blame Fergus. Bryce Cousland was my father's oldest friend. To betray him in such a foul manner..." He swallowed and looked at the older man. "Delilah told me about what they did to Eleanor and Megan. And Fergus' wife and son... Loghain, how could Father order such an outrage? And you... You're a man of honour! How could you overlook it? How could you be friendly with him after _this_?"

Loghain sighed. "Rendon was a ruthless man, Nate, ruled by ambition, but his strategy was sound. Killing Bryce and taking possession of Highever made him the most powerful noble of the North. I would have been a fool to antagonize him. Moral judgments didn't come into it, not with the Orlesians on our doorstep on top of the darkspawn threat." He shrugged. "The combined might of Amaranthine and Highever? I needed him. Politics are a dirty business."

Raising his head, he fixed Nathaniel with an unflinching gaze. "Honour, virtue, friendship... none of them count when a whole country is at stake. I have done any number of things I'm not proud of, because they seemed necessary at the time. If Morena had had me executed at the Landsmeet, no one would have blamed her."

"Morena! She of all people was hardly in a position to judge you. What did she know about honour and virtue?" Nathaniel's face showed the familiar mixture of anger and disgust at the mentioning of her name, and he turned away to leave the room.

Loghain felt a surge of fury. Suddenly he was tired of handling Nathaniel with kid gloves. Crossing the room with a few quick steps, he took hold of his shoulders and turned him around, forcing the young man to face him. "Look, I can see you're struggling with what she did to you, and I'm not trying to make excuses for any of it. But Maker's balls, Nate, get off your high moral horse! Morena was a fighter, a survivor. She did what she thought she had to do, and she never had it easy."

He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to shake Nathaniel. "You told me about the time when you came back from the Free Marches and found yourself poor, with no money, no family, nothing. For most of Morena's life, _that_ was how it was for her. She was always out for herself. But she fought. She didn't give in. And look what she accomplished! The Hero of Ferelden, Commander of the Grey, Arlessa of Amaranthine. No one could do all that without dirtying their hands."

Nathaniel's shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he closed his eyes, pain and betrayal written clearly on his face. "I understand, Loghain, I do. Maker knows I'm no saint myself." He swallowed. "But why... She could have been honest with me. She could have let me make my own decisions. I... I think I would have loved her anyway. I would have been at her side."

Loghain relaxed his grip and sighed. "Ah, but would you really? There are very few people who can face their lover's darker side, or their own, Nate. I don't think Morena was willing to take that risk."

"She trusted Anders." Nathaniel sounded bitter. "Why him, Loghain? Why him, and not me?"

Loghain smiled wryly. "Because she saw something better in you, Nathaniel. In a way, it was a compliment."

Nathaniel opened his mouth to answer, but then thought better of it. Loghain nodded. _He's going to need time to think about this._

 

* * *

At the end of spring, finally a messenger from Weisshaupt knocked at the gate, carrying a whole bundle of letters and official documents. Mistress Woolsey had died as soon as she had set sight on the mountains of the Anderfels, a quick and painless death in her sleep. But the First Warden had a few choice words to say on Loghain's handling of the murders. Nevertheless he was confirmed as Acting Commander for the time being. A new treasurer would arrive in a few weeks' time. As for his suggestion to make Nathaniel the new Commander, it was summarily rejected. Weisshaupt didn't want a local noble in such a powerful position; he could read that easily between the lines. Instead, they were told to wait for a replacement from Orlais.

The words that crossed Loghain's lips when he read the message were not fit to be repeated in polite company. Once he had calmed down, he began to consider how to best deal with the situation in the coming months. Nathaniel would need something to do, he realized, some sort of purpose. In the end, Loghain put him in charge of dealing with the bandit attacks on the trade routes around the Keep. Morena had done a good job of keeping them in check, when she first arrived in the arldom, but during her last months, she had been too busy fighting off the Mother's troops, and the roads were far from safe now.

Nathaniel threw himself into the task with enthusiasm, and within weeks, the situation had improved considerably. Loghain watched with relief as the young man grew visibly more relaxed and confident with each passing day and each successful mission.

Summer brought several new recruits, among them Rolan, a former templar who watched Anders with a fair amount of suspicion. Not without reason, Loghain had to admit. When Anders had announced that he had agreed to be a living host for Justice's spirit, more than one of the Wardens had blanched in fear. Still, Loghain had underestimated both Rolan's fanaticism and Anders' desperation, and it took all of his political clout to deal with the fallout from their eventual confrontation. Several dead Templars, an apostate mage on the run... None of this was likely to endear him to either the First Warden or his daughter.

But at least Anders' departure turned out to be a blessing for Nathaniel. With the constant reminder of Morena's duplicity out of the way, the young man finally began to heal, even learnt to smile again. One day, Loghain came across him, and Oghren, caught up in a friendly banter.

"My brother used to drink like you do, dwarf." Nathaniel's tone was warm and easygoing, and Loghain hid a smile at the sight of the younger man, sprawled lazily on a bench in the hall.

Oghren burped with gusto. "Fun fellow to have around then, your brother."

Nathaniel made a face. "Oh, yes. He could find his fun almost anywhere. And then he would vomit on your shoes."

Loghain leaned in the doorway and watched the two of them laugh at the simple joke, a warm feeling spreading in his stomach. He withdrew quickly, before they could notice him and snap to attention.

 

* * *

A few weeks later, Loghain accompanied Nathaniel and his troop of guardsmen on a routine patrol along the road to Amaranthine. Their presence turned out to be a lucky break for a merchant who found himself under attack by a small force of bandits. The Wardens quickly took charge of the situation, their longbows making short work of the attackers.

When the last bandit had surrendered, Nathaniel set the guardsmen to help the merchant straighten up his overturned carriage. Loghain watched as the young man respectfully helped the merchant's aged mother to an improvised seat on an overturned tree trunk before smiling charmingly at her pretty granddaughter who was obviously smitten with her heroic rescuer.

The old woman looked up at Loghain with a grateful smile. "Your son is a fine young fellow, messere. You must be so proud."

Nathaniel's head flew up in surprise. Loghain met his gaze and saw tiny wrinkles of amusement appear around the younger man's eyes. For an instant, he considered correcting the old woman, but then he nodded. "Yes, I am, old mother. Very proud."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to zevgirl - the most awesome beta ever!


End file.
